From Russia
by Cat 2
Summary: What if General Sarov had suceeded with his plan to turn Alex into his son? Things would have turned out very differently wouldn't they?
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing. _words in Italics are in Russian. This story starts 2 years after the end of Skeleton Key._

Eva Corps sighed off her desk and walked to the elevator. Cursing the out of order notice on the door, she climbed the stairs and headed outside into the freezing Moscow winter.

The ride on the Metro gave her a chance to think, the one thing she was desperate not to do. Reaching st. Barrikadnaya, she climbed up and head to her apartment.

The shower warmed her; through it did nothing to help her nerves.

"Is it wrong," she asked, of an empty room, stepping out the hot water dripping off her, "that I dreaded this day less when I had a legitimate reason for refusing?"

She shook her head, drying her hair and began to get dressed.** "**Ilya is a great guy, who adores me. He's smart, he's a great agent, there's nothing wrong with him. Except," she moved over to her dressing table and gazed down at a photo in the golden frame. It showed a blonde haired man, with blue eyes and his arm around her. What surprised most was that Eva Corps, known to friend and foe as the Vixen, was holding a baby.

"I loved you, Ian," she said, stroking the man's face. "Why did you have to leave me?"

She closed her eyes and forced the tears down. No more of that. What's done cannot be undone. It was just today. The anniversary.

She sat down and began to apply her makeup.

* * *

Ilya Dubromovitch Skorzorski, once known to the Kermin as Volk, sat in the restaurant. He sat in a private room at the back, once reserved for the KGB to talk with defecting agents. Now it was hardly ever used.

He had first met the woman he was waiting for here, nearly 20 years ago, just before the fall of the Berlin Wall. He had known right away that she wasn't a defector, but he had kept meeting with, enchanted by the red hair that gave her her codename, Vixen.

A lot had changed since their first meeting, but still both kept coming here, once a month to this restaurant that had somehow survived both Communism and its fall. They drank fruit juice, and once a year he proposed to her and once a year, she turned him down.

In a world like theirs, the certainties provided by this were comforting.

He looked up, automatically as the door opened and Vladimir, who like the restaurant was a survivor, admitted Vixen. Volk got to his feet.

"Would you please," he began, but Vixen cut him off.

"Don't Volk." Her voice was half begging. "Don't ask me to marry you!"  
There was a pause.

"I was simply going to ask Vladimir to bring us vodka." Volk said, without a change in his tone. "I am well aware of what today is."

Vixen sank down into her seat, blinking back the tears.

"I'm sorry." She said her voice heavy with sorrow and defeat. "It's just..."  
"Today is the anniversary." Volk said, gently reaching across the table and taking her hand. "I know. My country created Sarov. So I do not ask."  
"I just keep wondering," Vixen admitted, "whether if I'd fought harder, if I'd been more honest with Ian, whether he's be alive."

Volk grasped her hands tightly.

"Were you not the one who told me it is fruitless to ponder on what might have been?" he said gently.

She nodded. "I know it's pointless, I just couldn't bear to watch him become like me. John was my partner, I should protected his son!"  
"How?" Volk demanded. "You know, we both do, what happens to children with both parents in the service. And" he continued, "even if you had persuaded Ian to give him up, he might have come to it any way. Many wish to serve their country, we both know that."  
"Yeah." Vixen broke off as Vladimir entered with the vodka. After he had poured out a shot for each of them and left the bottle behind, she continued. "But he'd have been 18, 19, even 20. Not a 14 year old Kid!"

Volk tightened his grip on her hands. "We will find. We will find General Alexie Sarov."  
"yeah, I don't doubt that." Vixen sighed deeply. "But he'll stand trial for the murder of President Kiriyenko and theft of a nuclear weapon." Her green eyes met his. "He'll never hang for the murder of Alex Rider."

* * *

Volk had insisted on taking her home. She wasn't drunk, not even tipsy, but he knew her well enough to know that if she was drinking, there was something badly wrong.

The last time she had drunk vodka with him, Ian had just died.

Once she was in side, he drove back through the gathering dusk to Lubyanka. The thought of returning to his empty apartment, made him feel sick.

He stepped up, nodding to the desk clerk and climbed into the elevator, taking it to the 6th floor. His desk was at the end of the corridor, and his subordinate, Yury, was standing by it. He jumped at his superior's entrance.

"_No. No. There is nothing wrong." _He reassured him_. "I merely wished to catch up on some paperwork."_

Yury nodded nervously, and added a file to the pile.

"_What is this?" _he demanded.

"_An explosion sir. Out in Siberia."  
_"Chechnya?" he asked without much interest, picking up the file.

"_The experts say no, sir. Could be __al-Qaeda__."_

Volk smiled, waving him away. Yury had an obsession with al-Qaeda.

He opened the file.

As Yary had said, it was fairly simple. The house had been destroyed in the explosion. The owner, Alexei Voras, was viewed as an eccentric billionaire, who had moved there to raise his son.

Voras was still being sort, but his son had been injured in the blast and was in hospital.

Beneath pages of reports detailing the explosive type (again Yary was right, definitely not Chechnya) there was a photo of Voras's 16 year old son. Volk gazed down at him.

"Мой бог" he muttered. "The bastard's being laughing at us."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Wow!! Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews. I was so impressed, I decided to post the next chapter ahead of schedule. Nice reviews make me update quicker. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

"You're sure?" Eva walked rapidly along the sterile corridors, with Volk having to run to keep up.  
"As I can be. He looks" he stressed, "like the photos of Ian that you've got, and he's about the right age, so..."

They had reached the hospital door. The two soldiers standing outside stood to attention, when they saw Volk's uniform.

"Is he conscious?" Eva asked, as the door was opened.

"No."

A boy lay beneath the green blankets, his eyes closed. His hair was blonde, and cut short. Bandages swathed his arms and torso, and an IV needle pieced through them. The beep of machines filled the room.

Eva swallowed. It had been nearly 16 years since she'd seen him, and nearly 4 years since she'd seen Ian, but she was certain.

"It's him." she whispered.

The boy stirred, opening eyes that, surprisingly, were brown.

"_What happened? Where am I?"_

Eva blinked, but responded automatically in Russian as well.

"_You're in hospital. There was an explosion." _She sunk into the plastic chair next to the bed._ "Can you tell me what happened?"_

The young man shook his head.

"_Where is my father?"_

Eva and Volk exchanged a concerned look_._

"_We're looking for him," _Volk said, which was the truth.

"_Can you tell me your name?" _Eva asked, cautiously.

The boy's voice was sleepy as the pain killers took effect again._ "Alexi Voras. My father is Alexis Varos."_

The two agents gazed dumbstruck at each other, as the young man sunk back to sleep.

* * *

"Here"

Eva blinked and looked up. Volk stood, holding out a plastic cup of water.

"The doctor's say there is no evidence of brain damage. Just a concussion."

Eva nodded. Her expression remained grim.

"That's good isn't it?"

"I suppose." Eva replied.

"It's possible," Volk began, "that we are mistaken."

"We're not." Eva replied. "It's Alex."

Volk lifted an eyebrow. "You last saw him when?"  
"When he was 2." Eva admitted. "But he's Ian to life."

She sighed.

"I never dared even hope, you know. When we found the defused bomb and" she swallowed. "All that blood, type O the most common, I never even considered the possibility that he was alive. It just seemed to make no sense."

"You could have fooled me." Volk said gently smiling. He remember the time after the explosion, when it had felt at points like she lived in his building, chasing up every lead to its dead end, neglecting her own country to purse his, searching through all the Kermin archives, looking for something, anything to tell them where he was.

He knew that she had a long and complex history with the boy. His father's first partner, his mother's friend, his Uncle's lover, but those first six months had nearly killed her. And him.

"I was his godmother, and he was a fellow agent." Eva swallowed, "and if I kept busy. Kept looking I could ignore the voice in my head telling me it was hopeless."

She blinked rapidly and Volk could have sworn he saw tears on her eyelashes.

"So, why are you so unhappy?" he asked.

Eva pushed her hair out of her face. "We're not mistaken, and he's not lying to us."

"So?"  
"So we are either dealing with brainwashing or Stockholm syndrome" She sighed. "Which creates an interesting dilemma for us."  
Volk put his head on one side.

"Do we have the right to force him to come back?"

Volk blinked. "They wouldn't use him again surely?"

Vixen shrugged. "They've done it before." She said, draining her cup.

* * *

"Urgent request for a DNA comparison, Sir." Mrs. Jones walked through the door. Alistair Blunt lifted his head up.

"What is unusual about that?"  
"It comes from Vixen, sir."

Blunt's eyes rested on her, waiting for her to expand.

"The comparison is with Alex Rider."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

As ever, amazed by the support. ENjoy this, though there's nothing here that's mine.

Chapter 3

"I'm going to kill him." Vixen declared, storming down the corridor.

"Who?" Volk asked, without much interest.

"Which ever idiot is responsible for leaking the information to the Australians."

Volk gazed at her.

"You remember me mentioning Ash?"

Volk nodded. "Your old friend. Was injured in a mission, the one that brought John in."

Vixen nodded. "He's with the Australians these days." She shrugged. "Someone told him, I asked for a comparison with Alex's DNA. He wanted to know why."  
"Did you tell him?"

Vixen snorted. "Don't be an idiot. Told him, I'd let him know when I did."

She sighed.

"You ready?"  
"I guess." Vixen nodded.

* * *

"_There's nothing to be nervous about Alex, if I may call you back." _Volk could see the mother that Vixen would have been, if circumstances been different.

"_My name is Alexi." _The brown eyes gazed angrily back.

"_Alright. Alexi, then." _Vixen smiled, but it was not returned_. "As I said, there's nothing to be nervous about, we're just trying to find out what happened that night."_

"_I told you, I don't know." _The child was shuffling in his seat, evidently uncomfortable.

"_Just tell us what happened," _Volk said, gently.

"_I went to bed; there was a big bang, and the next thing I remember I was here." _He waved a hand indicating the hospital. _  
"Where is my father?"_

"_We're still looking for him." Vixen said_, firmly. Yury pushed the door open, and whispered in Volk's ear. Volk spoke rapidly back to Yury, and then to Vixen. Both got to their feet.

"_We will be back in a moment."_

They stepped out in to the corridor.

A man stood in the corridor. He was tall, with pale eyes and black hair that was plastered to his forehead. His face was grim.

"_Why are you speaking to my client?"  
"And you are?" _Volk's voice was reasonable, but his eyes were firm_._

"_Dr. Igor Andropov, psychiatrist_." The man replied. "_Alexis Varos is a patient of mine."_

Volk raised one eyebrow.

"_Perhaps we had best talk."_

* * *

Jack hadn't originally dared believe what the voice at the end of the phone was saying.

Then she had found herself gathering things. Packing a bag, booking flights.

Now she stood in the terminal of the main airport, realizing that she had no idea where she was going.

"Miss Starbright?" the English was accented, but the tone was sincere. She nodded, cautiously.

"My name is Vladimir. I was asked to meet you."

He held out a letter.

"She said, this would convince you."

The letter was written rapidly and bore a signature that she hadn't seen in years.

She nodded.

"Do you have some where to stay?"

Jack, shook her head.

"Then will you come with me, please?"

* * *

"_Alexi has been a patient of mine for nearly four years."_ _Dr. Igor _Andropov took a sip from his cup of coffee. "_His father brought him to me, as he was concerned about him."_

"_That does tend to be why one contacts a psychiatrist."_ Volk observed.

Igor regarded him before a moment, before taking another sip.

"_What was wrong with the child?"_ Volk asked.

Igor sighed.

"_Alexi has a vivid imagination, and, occasionally he has problems distinguishing between what is real and what is not. The situation was worsened by the separation of his parents."_ He nodded. "_We were making progress, but still Alexi suffers from it."_ He shook his head. _"Anything Alexi says must be treated with caution."_

As he did so, he extended his hand, which was disfigured with a huge scar. Volk blinked in surprise.

"_We will bear that in mind."_ He said calmly _"but he is the only witness we have."_

He got to his feet.

"_Remain in touch, Dr. Andropov, we may need to talk to you again."_

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this chapter is so ever, overwhelmed by you guys support. But Nice reviews still make me write quicker.

Chapter 4

Hospital rooms, Jack thought, all looked alike. This one was in Russia, but it could have been anywhere.

She stroked the blonde hair of the boy who lay on the bed. It felt like a miracle, and a nightmare.

She had been told that she was not to remain after he gained consciousness and that he would not remember her.

"They've got him full of some pretty powerful meds." She hadn't noticed the woman enter, but now she was standing by the bed.

"He was hurt pretty badly."

"This is all your fault."  
The woman said nothing.

"If you people hadn't got him involved in this, he'd still be o.k."

The torrent was unexpected, but it included everything that she had thought or said over the last four years.

"He's just a kid. Just 14 years old and he's been blown up, shot and nearly strangled by a jellyfish."

Two men had entered the room. The older gazed at her for a moment taking in the torrent of abuse she was unleashing at this stranger, before he turned to his companion

"Would you please take Miss Starbright home, comrade?"

Yury didn't know much, but he knew that when his superior called him Comrade it was not a good thing. He held out his hand and guided Jack from the room.

* * *

"She didn't say anything that wasn't true." Vixen's tone was expressionless. Her eyes never left the body.

Volk snorted.

"This from the woman who was exiled here, for daring to suggest that the child ought not to be used."

Vixen shook her head.

"When Helen first told me she was pregnant, I gave her five hundred pounds and told her to leave. To take herself and the child she was carrying as far away from Jon, from me, from our world as possible. She looked at me like I was mad."

She shook her head.

"I've always wondered if she'd listened, what would have happened."

"Probably she'd have been miserable." Volk said. "You told me, that she was in love with him. If you lose your love, some people lose their reason for living."

"Probably you're right." Vixen said, quietly. "But still..."

She trialed off, as there was a knock on the door.

It opened to admit two people, a man and a woman.

"_Excuse me,"_ the man said, _"my name is Vladimir Dhild. This is my wife, Catherine. We have information about Alexi Voras."_

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing. The first part of this chapter comes straight from Skeleton Key. As ever _italics are Russian. _Enjoy.

Chapter 5

_2 years ago._

"Give me the card or I will shoot you." Sarov said.

Alex lifted the card then suddenly flicked it. It spun twice and suddenly disappeared into water.

"Go ahead then, if that's what you want." He said "Shoot me!"

Sarov's eyes flicked over to the lost card, then back to Alex. "Why...?" he whispered.

"I'd rather be dead than have a father like you." Alex said.

There were voices, shouting. Footsteps coming nearer.

"Goodbye Alex." Sarov said. He raised the gun and fired a single shot.

* * *

His head hurt. That was the first thing he was aware of.

Gradually, other things came through. He was lying on his back, with a bright light shinning down on him. His forehead was throbbing and he felt drowsy. Voices came to him, he couldn't understand what they were saying, though he thought he recognized the language.

He blinked, and the world swan back into clearer view.

A face was peering down at him. It spoke, a question, but he couldn't understand him.

Shaking his head the man repeated what he had said in English.

"Alexi, can you tell me where you are?"

He shook his head.

"My name is Alex."

"Alex, then. Can you tell me where you are?"

He looked around. He was in a white room, with bars on the windows. He tried to take in more, but his brain wouldn't let him.

"No."

The man nodded.

"My name is Vladimir Dhild. I'm a doctor. You're in the Vysotsky institute in yakutia."  
Yakutia. He ran that name through his brain, he remembered something about that. It was in Siberia, he thought.

"You were brought here two days ago, after a fall down the stairs. Do you remember any of this?"

"It wasn't a fall." He muttered. "It was a bullet."

He saw the doctor's concerned expression. He then shook his head.

"Your father is waiting outside. I'll fetch him."  
"My father!?" he tried to sit up, to move his arms and legs, but he couldn't. Glancing down he saw the bounds of a straightjacket securing his arms to his chest.

He began to struggle, yelling out like a wild beast trapped.

There were voices speaking in rapid Russian. He couldn't understand them.

Then Sarov was there, sitting.

"Alexi. Please, calm down."

He was struggling worse than ever. He heard words he didn't recognize, and then a pick in his neck brought him back to darkness.

* * *

"_What do you want me to say, Vlad?"_ Dr. Chekov looked up at his eager young friend, who paced across the room like a caged tiger.

"_Is it possible?"_

"_Is what possible?"  
"Is it possible that that wound,"_ he indicated the close-up of the forehead wound _"was caused by a fall down stairs?"  
"Why are you asking me, when you know the answer?"_ Vladimir gazed at Chekov for a moment, and he sighed.

"_It is highly unlikely that a fall down stairs, even one that caught the edge of the banisters would cause an injury like that."  
"What is likely? A bullet?"_  
Chekov lowered the photo and stared opened mouth at his young friend.

"_What makes you think that?"_

Vladimir flung himself into the warn doctor's lounge sofa and sighed.

"_The child said it, when he first came around. The meds were making him drowsy, but he was perfectly coherent."_ He shook his head. _"He's got bruises. More than could have been caused by a fall down stairs, some of them were already black when they brought him in. And the kid."_ He lifted his head to stare at his friend_. "He's scared."_

"_So you believe these stories of his?"_ Chekov asked, jokingly.

"_That he's a secret agent? No I think that's the only thing Dr_" the sarcasm was evident in his voice. "_Dr Andropov and I agree on. I agree he has created this fantasy world, but I don't believe that he has nothing to fear."_

"_You do realize what you are suggesting?" Chekov asked._

"_At best, domestic abuse. At worst attempted Murder."_ Vladimir ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't like it. But I have to do something. "

"_But what?"_ asked Chekov asked. To that Vladimir had no answer.

* * *

Catherine had come on shift nearly an hour ago. She had trained as a psychiatric nurse and had been told that her patient was in Room 22.

She had found a young boy of about 14 in the room. She thought young, but his eyes were nearly doubled in the years they had seen.

She had tried making conversation, but Alexi, as the chart told her he was called, had been silent.

She had tried in both Russian and English, but there was not a hint of response. A book had been left on a chair, beside the bed. She got to her feet and made a move to fetch it.

Alexi flinched visibly, withdrawing himself closer to the wall.

"_It's O.K., Alex."_ She said gently. Alexi's Russian had improved over the last few days, something Dr Andropov viewed as a positive sign. Catherine wasn't too sure. In her opinion, it was perfectly possible that Alexi was picking up the Russian from the staff.

She glanced at Alexi, watching him.

When she or Dr Vladimir had asked him about his injuries, he had become very cagey. Catherine wasn't stupid. Before this, she had worked in a hospital in one of the roughest areas of Moscow.

She had seen it all before. . The bruises, the excuses, the behavioural changes. This was how abused people looked and acted. They avoided all questions, and they actively tried to hide the abuse or if people guessed the truth, they stood up for their abusers, or pretended that absolutely nothing was wrong.

Catherine was as sure as she could be, that Alexis Voras, for all his apparent concern for his son's welfare was responsible for his condition.

_Some weeks later._

"_You realise I'm asking you to risk your career and possibly your freedom?"_ Vladimir grasped Catherine's hand, gazing into her eyes.

"_We do not have the boy's guardian, or the attending physician permission, we have no proof,"  
"except a child who is clearly terrorised of something_." Catherine shook her hair back impatiently. "_I can't let a child go back if he's been hurt_." She drained her cup.

"_Let's do this_."

* * *

"_You are safe here, Alexi, you understand that_?" Chekov looked at the young man in the wheelchair in front of him. Alexi had not said a word since he had been brought in here, but simply based on behaviour he was inclined to agree with Vlad. Something had happened to terrorise this child.

"We _want to help you to stay safe, but to do that, you have to help us._"

The brown eyes, unusual with that blonde hair, flickered nervously about the room.

"_Who caused those bruises, Alexi? The ones on your chest and arms_?"

For the first time the child made a noise.

"_I did_." It was said parrot fashion. Chekov had heard it a thousand times, I fell down the stairs, I ran in to a door, it was an accident. He didn't believe it then and he didn't believe it now.

He'd read the reports. Several of the injuries it was impossible that they were self inflicted, and unlikely that they were caused by an accident.

"_Alexi, no one is going to be angry with you if you tell us the truth_." Vlad said gently. Alexi's body still shook. Catherine knelt down.

"_Alexi,_" she said, gently keeping her face at level with his. "_If someone did this to you, you don't have to go back. We can stop this._"

She swallowed.

"_Alexi did your father do this to you_?" Alexi tried to turn his head away, but she persisted. "_Is Voras responsible for this_?" her hand gently pointed to the healing injury on his forehead.

She lifted Alexi's hands away from his face.  
"_Alexi_," she said, firmly. "_If he is, we won't make you go back. We'll keep you safe."_

Through the tears a small voice answered

"_Yes_."

The door was flung open.

* * *

"_Voras and that doctor of his stormed into his room about 5 minutes later. We were lucky not to be arrested for kidnapping_." Vlad's hand gripped Catherine's as they stared at the agents. "_When we tried going to the police, they pointed out we had nothing."_

Volk nodded, carefully avoiding looking at Vixen as he got to his feet.

"_Thank you for your time_." He said, gently.

"_Please_," Catherine gasped out as he escorted her and her husband out. "_Will you tell Alexi we're sorry_?" She fumbled with a handkerchief. "_We promised him he'd be safe, and then sent him back."_

Volk nodded, before closing the door behind them.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Wow. This is my most popular story yet. I own nothing. Nice reviews make me write quicker, so keep this up.

Chapter 6

Eva was not happy. Aside from the lecture from Starbright, which she didn't entirely disagree, Anthony Sean Howell had arrived.

Ash and Vixen had never entirely got along. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about the guy always made her feel nervous. But he was her fellow country man in a strange land, so she grit her teeth and stepped outside the hospital.

Ash was the only Secret Agent she'd met who smoked. The smell of tobacco was so carrying that contrary to James Bond, very few agents actually smoked.

"Hey," she said, forcing a tone of friendliness that she did not feel into her voice. "You know those things will kill you."

"Unless a bullet beats them to it." Ash responded, stubbing out. He stared at her for a moment, before asking.

"Is it really him?"

Vixen nodded.

"The DNA comparison was positive." She said. There was no point lying to him. He wouldn't be here if he didn't already know the answer.

"You should have told me." For the second time in an hour she was under attack. "I'm Alex's godfather, I've got the same rights-"  
"and supposing it was another false alarm?" She demanded. "Do you know how many false leads we've chased down in the last two years?" she pushed on not giving him a chance to reply. "Technically I was following a hutch while helping the Russian intelligence services investigate a terrorist attack, something which I don't think I'm obliged to inform the Australian intelligent services of." The next words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Particularly not their non field agents."  
Ash blanched as though she had actually hit him. She sighed.

"I'm sorry. That was out of line."  
"Way out!" Ash said his face still grim as he lit another.

"It's just, you're the second person to yell at me about Alex in as many hours."  
"Thought Blunt would be pleased you've found his agent."  
"He's ecstatic" Vixen leant up against the wall, letting the exhaustion of the last few days wash over her. "Jack Starbright on the other hand."

Ash spat out his cigarette in surprise.  
"Jack's here?" He demanded.

"Arrived last night." She remembered that Ian had told her that Ash and His housekeeper had had some kind of a relationship. "I'll give you her address."

Anything, said the voice in her head, to keep you away from Alex.

* * *

Yury drove in silence, his eyes never leaving the road. Jack, sitting next to him in the passenger seat felt uncomfortable.

He pulled up deliberately by an alley, causing the glove compartment to pop open. Jack stared in horror at the gun nestled so gently there.

"It is only the fact that I know you are upset that is keeping me from using it." Yury said, conversationally. He moved off, his eyes still remaining on the road.

"She's a great agent, Vixen." he said, without a change in his tone. "If you're government had any sense she'd be in Afghanistan or Iran, not rotting here." He turned left, down a dark street.

"She came here 3 years ago." He said his eyes still on the road. "Officially, it was a promotion; she's in charge of intelligence gathering for the British in Russia and liaises to our department." He shrugged. "In reality she was been moved out of their way."

"Why?" Jack asked, her curiosity our weighing her fear of the gun still resting on the open glove compartment door. She was convinced he planned to kill her.

"She threatened to tell some facts they didn't like."  
"About Alex?"

"To Alex." Yury corrected. "She could have told him for example that MI6 has no power to kick you out of the country, Miss Starbright."  
She froze, her heart pounding against her chest. He couldn't know.

"Or that they were not named his guardians under Ian's Will. Or even," Yury turned right this time. "How his father really died."

He followed the one way sign.

"She was a child agent herself, did you know that?" he asked rhetorically. "13 when she ran her sole mission, though as the child of two agents she'd been running missions for long before that." He laughed slightly to himself. "I've heard her refer to Helen, Alex's mother," he said by way of explanation. "As her first and only friend outside of the service." He nodded slightly sadly. "She'd do anything to protect him."  
"She didn't do too gooder job!" Jack declared bitterly.

"Didn't she?" Yury asked, soundly vaguely amused. "The intelligence services gave up looking for Sarov nearly three months after the attempted explosion. She kept looking, until" he said gently. "Volk forced her to admit that the chances were slim." He shrugged. "If he hadn't she would have probably worked herself to death." He smiled gently. "He loves her, but her first and probably only love was Ian Rider." He pulled up in front of the restaurant that she had been delivered to earlier. "In short," he said, leaning over and closing the glove compartment. "Leave Vixen alone. She's your best chance of keeping him safe."

He opened the car door.

* * *

Volk walked over slowly, waiting until the taxi had pulled away before he spoke to Vixen.

"I have sent the Dhilds to a safe house and arrange for some one to locate Chekov." He said slowly, making sure that Ash was really out of earshot, before he spoke.

"That answered some questions."

Vixen nodded.

"Brainwashing. Repeat a version of events often enough, and the mind will accept it as the truth." She shook her head. "But there's no evidence that Sarov had the skills to do that."

"He had help." Volk said, sadly. He sighed. "We both know Andropov."  
"The name's not in any reports, I asked a couple of agents I trust to run it up."  
"It will appear in many reports, or at least his real name will." Noticing the confusion on Vixen's face he explained. "When I was interviewing Andropov, I saw a huge scar on his hand." He looked, seeing comprehension dawning in her face.

"Dr Andropov is Captain Voprodan."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

As ever, have no idea why so many people seem to like this story. Nice Reviews make me write faster. Enjoy

Chapter 7

"Rogi Vopradan? The mind wiper? The KGB's finest mind controller?"

"That's right, Creepy." Vixen leant back in her chair, watching the non descript man on the screen. "Volk's got a team out looking for him, but it's probable that he's skipped the country."

Mr. Crawley chewed at his bottom lip.

"Latest intelligence indicated that Vopradan was with..."  
"SCORPIA." Vixen moved her head. "Working theory is that Sarov goes to his old friends in Scorpia, get's them on side and brainwashes the kid." She shrugged. "Probably promises them the kid."

Crawley nodded.

"You need protection."

Vixen snorted.  
"Like Blunt's going to take me seriously." She sighed. "We both know what Scorpia's capable of."  
Crawley nodded.

"I'll have team with you in 24 hours. Stay with him."

"Like I'm going to do anything else." Vixen said, breaking the connection.

* * *

The woman, Vixen was there when Jack arrived. She was sitting in a chair by the bed and made no move to leave. Her eyes rested on Jack with a good deal of suspicion.

"So," Jack asked. "What was he like? John, I mean. Was he anything like Ian?"

The agent regarded Jack for a few seconds before speaking.

"In appearance, yes. In character." She paused. "John was like my father."

Jack flushed.

"I only met the major a couple of times."

"That should be enough." Vixen said, with a grin. "For my father, his country came first. It was more important than anything else. Including us." She looked sad.

She sighed. "To Ian and me this is a job. You do what you have to. John and my father, it was anything for your country." She shook her head.

"But he did love Helen."

"Yury said you were friends."

Vixen smiled.

"Not at first. The first time I met Helen she poured a milkshake over John and called me a whore."

She shrugged at the surprise on Jack's face.

"I had just kissed her boyfriend fairly passionately on the lips, so she may have had justification." She shoved her hair out of her face.  
"We were investigating an arms smuggler who was using young honeymoon couples to get the goods out of the country. So we pretended to be engaged and waited for their agents to contact us. The mission was a success, but Helen broke off their engagement."

She sighed.

"I was already in love with Ian, and I like John. I understood him, though I could never condone his attitude. So I went to her and explained as far as I could."  
"She knew about him?!" Jack's voice was incredulous. Her mother had only found out about her father's involvement when they'd been forced to hiding.

"Knew some. Guessed the rest." She sighed. "She hated him been involved, but she understood, better than any civilian I've met. She was smart and she was strong, her one weakness was that she loved him too much. If she hadn't she'd have left him and taken Alex." There was a great sadness in her eyes.

"She went though her whole pregnancy on her own did you know that? The scenario they'd set up wouldn't have had Ian talking to her. I was out of the country for a lot of the early stuff."  
"And Ash?" Jack asked. There was a slight change in Vixen demeanour that only someone with a life time of experience with agents would have picked up on.  
"Helen didn't like Ash." She said. And changed the subject.

"Mind if I ask a personal question?"  
"You can ask," Jack said slowly. "I don't have to answer."  
Vixen smiled.

"You're your father's daughter." She said grinning. "Basically what happen between you and Ash. Why did you stop seeing him?"

"I never stopped seeing him." Jack replied. "He stopped seeing me. He and Ian went out for a drink one night, and the next..." she shrugged. "He was gone."

Vixen nodded, silently thanking a god she stopped believing in a long time ago that Ian had taken her advice.

* * *

Wolf had long ago learnt to never question a mission. It was a bad habit and more importantly was bad for morale. But the rumours flying around about this mission were making him think.

If, and experience taught him it was a big if, they were to go out there and protect Cub, there was going to be trouble.

The Russian authorities weren't likely to react well to a show of lack of faith, and Moscow would almost certainly create trouble.

He'd grown up with his father's and later his sister's horror stories of the Russian Secret Service, and had no desire to find out the truth about them.

However one other thing was overwhelmingly present. You didn't leave a team member behind.

With that thought in mind he lay back against the side of the Jeep that was taking them to the airport, and hope Eva wasn't in over her head.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

As Ever I own nothing, but nice reviews make me write quicker.

Chapter 8

Rogi sat in the small cafe about 10 miles from the Russian border. As he sipped the coffee, he regarded his hand.

It was stupid really. He should have had it removed or at least altered, like he'd done to his face. But over the years he'd become rather fond of the memento, it helped him remember what had happened in Prague, fuelled the hatred that made him live. Hatred for one man.

A British agent who'd done this to him and who he'd thought was removed from his grasp forever. Until an old friend had found him.

The thought had amused him. The son of Britain greatest agent been used to restart the Cold War. He'd have done it for free if Sarov hadn't paid him.

Still, they had failed. He shouldn't have been surprised that Ilya recognised him, there was a reason they called him Volk, or Wolf.

Now they must make use of Plan B. He got to his and fell back down, a tiny hole in his forehead.

*

"You do not like Antony." Volk observed, taking the indicated chair next to Vixen.

"Else you would have invited him to sit with you instead."

He glanced at the sleeping figure. Alex, or Alexi had been more alert today, though he was still on a high dosage of pain killers.

"Maybe I am following Confucius." Vixen replied, somehow managing to make the awful coffee mug that he had begged from one of the staff look alluring. "Keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer."

"Ash is not your friend." Volk stated blandly. Vixen sighed.

"No." She admitted, and paused. "Ash is a good agent."  
"But?"  
"But that's it. He's a good agent, but not a great one. He tries really hard, but always somehow falls short of the mark." She shook her head. "In one sense it's not really his fault. He was part of an excellent couple of years. There was me, and it's not fair to compare someone with nearly 10 years combat experience to someone with none, and there were the Rider's brothers."  
"Who always had the devil's own luck." Volk smiled, remembering the jokes he had heard about them over a bowl of cabbage soup.

"Up to the end." Vixen agreed, her smile appearing then fading. She shook herself as though to free herself of memories. "The Riders were good due to genetics. In any other year, Ash would have been acknowledged as a good agent, but in ours..."  
"His inabilities stood out more than his abilities."

"Yeah." Vixen fell silent. Volk had his mouth open to say more, but Yury chose that moment to enter the room. Mentally cursing his subordinate, he stepped out the room. He was sure there was more to the story than Vixen had told him.

*

"you are positive?"

Yury wished his superior wouldn't ask that, but he knew why. If he was wrong, then they were in trouble.

"there is extensive plastic surgery, attempts have even been made to alter the fingerprints_"  
"thank god they always grow back the same." Volk interrupted, still covering the corridors of the St Petersburg hospital at a speed that meant Yury was running to keep up with him.

"but the DNA on file is clear. It's Sarov."

Volk nodded.

"what happened?"  
"it was on the Metro. The bullet came straight through the glass. Injured two people before it hit its target."

Volk stopped so suddenly, that Yury nearly ran into the back of him.

"go back." He said, his voice full of ice. "go back and stay with them. I do not care if the British have arrived or not go back and stay with them.  
"Of course, only..." he flushed as his superior's eyes fell on him. "Why?"  
Volk put his face very close to Yury's own.  
"Because there are only two men who could have made that shot. One of them is dead and the second..."  
"The second?" Yury asked, when his superior did not seem inclined to finish. He immediately wished he hadn't as the look of contempt on Volk's face was like an icy blast.

"The second is Yassen."

He headed off down the corridor, leaving Yury gazing at his back in horror.

*

Despite the harsh unnatural lights, Jack had fallen asleep. Her head rolled against the orange chairs, her dark hair falling over her shoulder.

"You're wasting your time." Ben jumped, at Vixen's words. He had thought she too was asleep, lying back in her chair, watching from under her eyelashes. "She'll have nothing to do with you. Especially if you're serious about transferring."

"Why?" Ben Daniels, also known as Fox, couldn't help himself. He knew that this red headed woman knew enough to put Wikipedia to shame.

"Her father was a colleague of my father." She didn't seem inclined to say anything more, but Daniels kept watching her, waiting. She smiled.

"She's got you bad." She said and then shrugged. "Not much to tell. Her father was a colleague of my old man. He made some bad enemies, disappeared off the radar when she was two. Next time I met her, she come over from the state. Holiday job with Ian, looking after him." she indicated the bed with her head. She sighed. "We had a massive argument." She shook her head. "Felt like all we did was argue back then." There was a degree of bitterness in her voice. She glanced to the bed. Puzzled, Daniels followed her gaze.

Alex's movements had become more violent. He was muttering, sounds that were almost words. He moved towards the call button, but Vixen's hand suddenly caught his.

"no." She muttered. "It's alright."

This did not seem to be true. Alex's movements were getting worse and worse, now he could hear words.

"No. No. Don't." He sounded pitiful, desperate. Daniels had no idea what to do; he couldn't understand why Vixen was so calm.

"NO!" the word was screamed in English, as the child sat bolt upright. Vixen ran over to the bed, holding the child against her, as he sobbed.

"Andropov says that there not real. That they're just in my head. That they didn't really happen." The words were in English, the tears running down his cheeks and into Vixen's chest. "But in the night. They seem real."  
"What do?" Vixen asked, softly.

"The dreams."  
"What do you see?" there was a slight pause before see, as though she had meant to say another word, but lacked the courage to submit it.

"A shark. Swimming at me. There's blood in the water. All around. And a jelly fish. A huge one. It's reaching for me. And snow, with men with guns following. Trying to kill me." The desperate eyes were searching for reassurance. Jack had woken up, but he hardly seemed aware of her. He glanced at Vixen, holding the sobbing boy. In that moment, he saw the pain and despair in her eyes.

Then the lights went out.


	9. Chapter 9

I own nothing. Sorry for the delay in posting, life got in the way. Nice reviews make me write quicker.

Chapter 9

"Ow!" Yury unleashed a volley of what Snake presumed were curses at him.

"If you'd hold still," he said, aware of how clichéd it sounded. "It wouldn't hurt as much."

The next phrases from his casualty's mouth were in Russian, but he grasped the general meaning of them, when Wolf's hand made contact with the back of Yury's head. He glanced up disapprovingly at his commander, who shrugged.

"Least the KGB taught them manners."

* * *

"Do we have any idea where they have taken him?"

"No." Volk admitted, gazing at the pacing agent. "But we will find him."

Vixen snorted.

"We have no clue where he's gone. Alex might already be dead by now."  
"Unlikely." Volk said, firmly. "If he'd wanted to kill Alex, it would have been much better to do it in that room. The man is a master assassin, but he left all of you alive, even my idiot of an underling."

Vixen did smile briefly. Yury had fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Running into the darken room; he had been hit over the head. Gas had been used to subdue the others.

"Do we have any clues?" she asked, desperately.

Volk shrugged, uncomfortable in the answer.

"We did find this." He admitted, holding out a tiny pin, with a scorpion design on top. Vixen took the pin from him. Her face went pale, and she began to shake. Her hands were gripping the pin so tightly that she thought she would turn it in to dust. A single word escaped her lips, but Volk didn't catch it.

The pin fell from her hand, and she began to walk rapidly down the corridor.  
"What's happened?" Volk demanded. "Where are you going?"  
Vixen didn't even break step as she replied,

"To do something I should have done 16 years ago!"

* * *

Alex opened his eyes.

He was in a white room, like his room at home, but it was not his room. Through the walls, he could hear traffic, alien to the wastes of Siberia.

For one horrible moment he thought that he was in the Vysotsky institute or somewhere worse, like Dr Andropov and Sarov had threatened often enough. But he was able to move his arms and legs, so he couldn't be there.

He slowly got to his feet, taking stock of the situation. He felt a little nauseous, but otherwise O.K. the room he was in had no windows, and when he tried the door, he found it locked.

It was with a start that he realized that he wasn't alone. A man was sitting on a chair in the corner opposite. He had a pale smooth face, with blonde hair to match. His eyelashes were blonde too, which made him look feminine. He recognized him. The man had been to Sarov's house, to his home Andropov voice reminded him, several times. But he didn't know his name.

The man smiled.

"You are awake. Good. For a while I was concerned I had used too much." He smiled. Alex didn't.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Normally I wouldn't tell you but considering the circumstances – your circumstances, I will. Yassen Gregorovich"

The name meant nothing to him. The blue eyes watched him carefully, waiting for a response.

* * *

"You remember what I told you about John?" Vixen demanded, covering streets of Moscow at a speed that anyone would have envied.

"That his last mission was undercover with Scorpia and that he was killed by them with a bomb?" Volk replied, panting slightly. Vixen had not slowed since they left the hospital, which was nearly 5 miles away.

Vixen nodded, forcing the restaurant door open and surprising Vladimir. She didn't even seem to notice him as he moved out to greet him.

"The bomb, unlike what I told you and what most people even at my end think, was not a time bomb. It was remote controlled." She was climbing the stairs to the rooms above the restaurant. "The range was limited. Even once the plane was airborne; there were less than 5 people who could have activated it." She paused by a door. "Only one of them had reason to hate John."

The door gave way at the slight pressure she applied to it. Volk did his best to avert his eyes at the figures in the bed, who rolled apart as they entered.

"Antony Sean Howlett." Vixen said, with quiet anger.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews, and sorry for the delay, I was up to my neck in exams and preparations for Christmas. Anyway, new chapter now up, and nice reviews help the next one come quicker. Seasons Greetings everyone.

Chapter 10.

Volk kept his eyes averted, as Jack pulled on some clothes. Vixen had told him to take her back to her own room, and he had been glad to do so.

Despite the many things he had seen over the years, her expression had scared him. As did the screams coming from the room down the hall.

It was ironic really that it should have returned to its original use.

He walked down the corridor, only partially aware of Jack following him.

He had heard stories about Vixen's father. They had used him as a bogey man to scare new recruits back in the KGB. When he had been older, he'd read the files. The reality was worse than they ever imagined.

Over the years he'd seen some stuff that reminded him of who her father was. He'd never seen it more clearly than today.

"Tell me where he is?"

"I don't know."

Vixen's hand was like a lightening rod, he didn't even see it move, only heard the scream that issued from the man tied to the chair.

"You always were weak Ash." Vixen snarled. "If I'd been smart, I'd have handed you over when I had the chance." Her eyes flashed

"You know what we do to traitors?"

The man swallowed.

"English Law forbids the death penalty."

"We're not in England." Vixen's voice was a hiss. "And even if we were, accidents will happen."

The knife in her hand moved swish, swish.

Ash swallowed again.

"You've no proof."

In answer, Vixen withdrew from within her shirt a simcard on a chain, which she swung softly from side to side like a hypnotist in front of him.

"Shouldn't have let me get close that night in the cafe." She said quietly. "These things keep a record of numbers called. It's on there. Now," she said, moving in to whisper in his ear. "How long do you think it'll take Smithers and his tech boys to match the number here to the code that killed John Rider?"

She watched as Ash sunk forward, but it gave her no pleasure.

"For the record, in your shoes, I would have probably done the same thing. 'Cept I would have gone to the Iraqis or the Iranians, not an insane league of ex assassins, but you know, you were in a lot of pain at the time, so I'll forgive you but I can't forgive you for Helen, or for their son."

The eyes raised to her were indistinguishable from the ones she had seen when John carried the half dead man back to their extraction point.

"We didn't take him."  
"But you know where he is." The disgust was back in her voice. "You never change Ash, always screwing some bird over before setting off in a mission."

Jack's hurt gasp alerted both agents that she still was there. She turned and ran.

Vixen didn't even break her gaze.

* * *

There were no windows in the room, but Alex had got used to guess time in windowless rooms over the last two years.

Yassen left for a couple of hours, and came back with aluminium craters, filled with food. He ladled it out into bowls and they ate in silence.

Yassen seemed nervous. He kept glancing at his watch, and more than once he wandered over and pressed his ear to the door.

Eventually, he seemed satisfied that they weren't followed.

"We leave in an hour." He said.

Alex nodded. He had learnt the hard way not to ask questions.

* * *

"I have your word?" Ash demanded, gazing into Vixen's eyes. She nodded.

"One bullet. And it never leaves here."

Volk sat supporting Jack. She had stop crying, merely making small hurt animals noises occasionally. He nodded, confirming this. He wasn't even sure that either of the women noticed.

Ash pulled the offered piece of paper towards him.

"here." He said, scribbling. "It's a bolthole. Only place in the city that he has."

Vixen took it. She withdrew a gun from within her jacket and placed a single bullet in it.

"You know the sad thing Ash?" she said, gently. "You could have been the best."

Volk helped Jack to her feet and out into the corridor. Vixen stood there, leaning against the wall, her eyes closed.

"I thought he loved me." Jack muttered, wiping her eyes.

A single shot rang out. Vixen opened her eyes.

"Let's go." She said.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note. Thanks for being patient. I've been ill, so haven't had much time for updating. Hope this is worth the wait._ as ever Italics are voices in Russian_

Chapter 11

"_We should wait for back-up_." Volk muttered, though he knew it was pointless.

_"He'll be gone by the time they arrive."_ Vixen replied.

_"Well at least send the civilian back."_ He demanded, glancing at Jack, who was standing, red-eyed, in the alley behind them.

Vixen chuckled softly. _"Not a chance, she's vital to my plan."_

She stood still for a moment, her head cocked slightly so that she resembled her codename.

Then, at some signal audio able only to her, she nodded.

"Let's go." She said in English.

*

The more Alex thought about it, the more the name Yassen seemed familiar.

He knew he'd seen the man before. Especially in the last few months he had been a frequent visitor in his father's house, but he'd never heard his name.

Yet in his nightmares, he remembered this man. Heard the sound of gun shots, and his own voice saying,

"You killed my uncle."

And the soft voice replying,

"I've killed a lot of people."

The dream was so vivid that he could smell the gun smoke in the air, heard the roar of a helicopter and see London spread out before him, despite the fact he knew he'd never visited the Capitalist citadel. It scared him. So much so, that despite Yassen telling him to sleep, he'd just closed his eyes. But the dreams played against his eyelids.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

"_We leave."_ Yassen said firmly.

"_Not so fast!"_ a voice came from behind Yassen's back.

Suddenly he was spun around, and there was a gun pressed against his head.

* * *

"He's got a gun."  
Volk remembered why he hated civilians. He could see the man, whom he recognised from the wanted pictures as Yassen, had a gun. And he no doubt that he would follow through on his threat. He lowered his gun.

Vixen's gun however remained pointing squarely at Yassen.

"He's not going to use it." She said, quietly.

"What?!" Volk demanded. "Vixen, he has killed three hundred people that we know of, including Ian Rider."

"But he won't kill Alex." Vixen said, her eyes meeting Yassen's. "_Will you?"_  
Yassen shook his head, but the gun remained at Alex's temple.

"Together?" Vixen said, calmly.

"On three." Yassen spoke for the first time.

"One."

"_Two_."

"Three." They said together. The guns fell to the floor.

Confused and feeling rather foolish, Volk copied them. Jack gazed at the three of them, her eyes always returning to Alex, who Yassen still held, though he more supporting him, as the child had gone limp.

"What in god's name…?" Volk began, but Vixen interrupted.

"There's a bit of the story I never told you."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I told you that John's last mission was to infiltrate SCORPIA and that he trained Yassen." Vixen said, accepting the cup of tea she had asked Jack to make while she, Volk, Yassen and Alex sat, or in Alex case, lay down on the floor. The whole thing felt surreal, and at the same time, strangely British.

Volk nodded, taking his from Jack.

"You also told me SCORPIA found out he betrayed them and killed him, so forgive I don't see his motive."

Vixen sighed.

"Most SCORPIA agents believe that British Intelligence killed him. You remember the Adair kidnapping?"  
Volk nodded.

"British minister. They said they'd kill the son if the father didn't cooperate. British intelligence got him back, though they were rather cagey on the subject."

Vixen nodded.

"We offered, what SCORPIA thought, was a straight forward trade. The boy, who we knew they had, for John Rider, who they thought we'd captured in the mission that lamed Ash." She said. "What SCORPIA didn't know, was that we had no intention of giving them John." She sipped her tea. "The trade was conducted over a bridge. We were on one side, SCORPIA were on the other. The hostages were released and walked across the bridge. Just as the kid crossed over in our side, a shot rang out and John Rider fell down dead."

"But…" Volk began, thinking of the little Vixen had told him about John and Helen's death. Then he shook his head. "Blanks and a squib, right?"

Vixen smiled.

"First time we'd used it in a long time. I'll admit I was surprised at how well it worked." She sighed. "SCORPIA thought John was dead, but we knew we could never use him again. So we arranged to send him to France.

"Somehow or other SCORPIA discovered the trick. I don't think Ash told them, but I can't be sure. You know what happened next."

"Ash killed them both with a bomb SCORPIA Gave him." Yassen said, softly.

"But you only found that out…" she put her head to one side as she looked at him. "About four months ago."

Yassen nodded. Volk slapped his knee.

"The French hacking!" He said.

Five months ago, the French intelligence services had been horrified to discover that someone had hacked into their files. What had surprised them was that the hacker had apparently had no interest in their files on terrorism, or organised crime. No. the file which had been disturbed had lain unopened for nearly 16 years.

"What gave you the idea?" Vixen asked.

Yassen snarled

"Nile."

Nile. SCORPIA's new rising star. An assassin of great skill, but afflicted with a disease that would turn the black born man white before his death.

Vixen nodded.

"Makes sense. He knows he'll never be your equal, always be in your shadow. Unless he destroyed you." She took a sip of tea. "So he tells you. Like John taught you, you went looking for evidence, and at the same time, Sarov offers Alex to SCORPIA to train. You couldn't let that happen. You know, like I do, what this life, our life does to children."

"Hang on." Volk interrupted. "If he idolised John so much, why kill his brother?"  
Both Vixen and Yassen fixed him with an expression of contempt.

"The sniper in the window above the bridge." Vixen said softly. "It was Ian."

Volk sighed.

"So what are we going to do?" He asked, quietly. "He can't go back to them. And Alex…" he gazed at the child. He couldn't suggest that he went back. The damage done was too great.

Vixen blinked.

"What is there to suggest?" she demanded. There were footsteps in the corridor and suddenly K unit was there.

"Acting on information receives from a defector from SCORPIA, you and I removed a mole, which regrettably killed himself before we could bring him. The defector also offered us Alex Rider, who is in no fit state to continue." She paused. "Times have changed. Child agents are too risky currently."

She reached and took from a confused Wolf a pile of papers.

"There is a plane leaving for the United States in hour. These men will make sure you get on it. Here." She said, extracting a card from within her coat. "There's about three grand in there. Take it and disappear. Don't tell where going."

Jack took the card.

"Why?" she asked and Volk agreed with her.

Vixen turned to face her.

"Because I know you'll keep him safe. Something I can't do. He'll protect you both."

Volk caught her, holding her as tears held in for a long time streamed down her cheeks.

"Go." He whispered. "Go now."

Yassen lifted Alex, like a sleeping babe, and held out his hand to Jack. After a moment, she took it.

Volk stood, gazing at Unit's retreating backs, as he held the sobbing Vixen against it.

"_The money_." He said softly. _"It's the five hundred you tried to give Helen_."

"_With interest_." Vixen muttered.

"_Why let him go, after he killed Ian_?" Volk asked. He'd always thought Vixen would kill the man who killed her love.

Vixen lifted red eyes up to his.

"_The sniper in the window. It should have been me_."

_Fini_

_Author's note: Well that's it. If people want, I am planning a presequel to this, but you have to hit the button and let me know._


End file.
